Spirt of '76
by Jade-Silverwolf
Summary: The meeting was scedualed on a terriable day. If was a bad day to have it. And yet, he showed up any way, though he wasn't sure why.  9/11 Tribute. If you don't like the idea of some one writting about this, please don't read it and troll.


He walked into the meeting room more then ten minutes late, but not a single country questioned the other man, all well aware of the reason for his lateness.

The usual happy nation was anything but that on this day. His usual happy-go-lucky exsperior wasn't present and neither was the shit-eatting grin he usually had. He couldn't make himself look happy, not when he was greving with his people.

Today was th tenth anaveriary of his country being hit by one of the worst attacks since he had been bombed by Japan, the attack that made him join forces with the rest of the Allies in the Second World War.

Alfred F. Jones was well aware of the eyes on him as he walked to his usual seat, which was beside his current lover and boyfriend, Ivan Braginaski, who was actually in the middle of a speech.

With dark bags under neith his eyes from lack of sleep the night before, America tried to crack a smile to all his fellow countries, even though it diidn't work in the slightest. The thing that resulted from this attempt was a small, sad smile, though most wouldn't even count it as a smile.

Sitting down beside the standing Russian man, Alfred sat up striaght with his hands folded onto the table. Looking around at everyone with tear filled eyes, he quickly looked back down. He knew that coming to this meeting today was a bad idea. For this month's meeting, it was being held in Canada, which wasn't far from his country, thank God, but it was stil far enough away to where he wouldn't be able to go back until the following day, seeing as how all flights for this day had been stopped, going in and out of America.

The room remained silent for a few more moments before a cough was heard and Germany stood from his seat. "Russia," He started. "Please continue."

Nodding his head before taking a deep breath, Russia began his speech once again.

America though, paod no attention to it, to lost in his own thoughts to even care at that moment.

His people were mourning, all of them, and yet, at the same time, they were rejoycing. The man who was responcable for their mourning had been killed months before hand, but now, when the annaversary of him attacking the country came about, they celebtared his death more then ever.

On this day, all his people were proud of where they came from. From those who could remember the attacks as if it was just yesterday, to those who wern't even thought of yet.

It was like this every year, actually. In the mornings, everyone mourned. For lost friends, reliteves and even people they didn't know. They mourned for. Then, in the afternoon, they celebrated the wonderful lives that they had and the heroes that saved alot of people.

The United States of America, both the personification and the country it's self, all stood a little straighter that day.

Each year, the pride the American people had for theur country grew.

Some people called this the "Spirt of '76."

A decade has passed since the atual attacks and Alfred knew that if in one hundred years, God forbid anything else like this ever happened to his country again, instead of people having the "Spirt of '76" it would be of 2011.

His people had gotten stronger over the pasted years.

Russia finished talking a few minutes later.

Sitting into his seat, the Russian man took ahold of Alfred's hands and brought them below the table. Releashing the one farthest from him, he grabbed the other and put it into a tight hold before running his thumb over his knuckles in a conforting way.

The room went silent once again. Not a one of the people in the room knew what to say. Alot of the people present in this room today had people die on this day ten years ago, though none more so the America. They still felt it though. The ones that they lost, they felt it.

Russia looked at America, seeing how he was. He was surprised to see tears falling down his face. The usual strong country has almost never cried infront of anyone else. Before today, not even Russia, who had been with him for little over twenty years, hasn't seen him cry.

Clearing his throat, England said to everyone "Why don't we take an intermission? We can start again in an hour or so." He looked over at America, the boy he still concidered to be a little brother. After he had became independant, England tried to hate him and say he wasn't his brother, but he failed. He had practally raised the boy. He though, didn't know if America still claimed him as a brother.

Everyone just nodded their heads at him and added a few "yes's".

Most everyone stood and walked out of the room, almost everyone shooting America a pitying look before doing so.

As soon as everyone but Canada, England, Russia and France had left, Russia let go of America's hand as he stood from his seat, followed by the others.

"Come, Alfred, let us go get some air, da?" He said as he offered the still sitting nation a hand up.

Looking up to Ivan, Alfred wipped the tears out of his eyes and off of his cheeks. Looking at the hand in question, Alfred soon relized that pretty much everyone had left the room, except for his family. He hadn't been paying any attention.

He was glad that those who stayed in the room was them. If it had been anyone else, he probally would have just stayed seated, but since it was them, he took Russia's hand and let him help him up. Once he was up, Ivan pulled him to where he leaned against the larger man's side.

Canada, though not the most noticable country in the world, walked to the door and opened it for them all. "Come on, eh. We should get some air." He said as he smiled lightly at his brother.

France and England grabbed one another's hand as they looked at the two still by the table.

Speaking loudly, Francis said to Alfred "Today, America, we are all Americans." He then turned and began to walk away, but was stopped when England didn't move.

Said green eyed nation was looking at Alfred with tears in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. "We are all mourning with you, America. We all feel your pain, anger, and also, the pride of your people." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I have not felt this amount of pride radiating off of you since you broke away from me. Never have I felt this amount coming from a single nation, either." He then gave a small smile as he proclaimed loudly "You, Alfred F. Jones, my fellow country and little brother, are radiation with the Spirt of '76." With that, he turned quickly and all but ran out of the hall, draggin France with him.

Matthew just gave a small smile before walking out the door, letting it close behind him, leaving the other two nations to be by them selves.

"They are right, da? We need air." He then gave the shorter man a kiss on the temple before saying to him "I feel the pride as well. I feel it coming off of you as if trying to infest into everyone, trying to make them feel the same way."

America looked up at him and muttered softly "And that's why I love you, Vany, you make me feel better."

The Russian just leaned down further and kissed him on the lips before replying with a slight smile "I love you as well, my Sunflower."

* * *

><p>A sappy ending to a fail at a tribute.<p>

I would have made it better, but I am running out of time to get it right and still post it today, so I figured that it's good enough.

This is dedicated to all of the lives of all the nationalites lost on this day ten years ago, not just the American lives.

God Bless the families of everyone injured or killed ten years ago. And thank you, to the heroes that sacraficed them selfs, not only in saving lives in the World Trade Center, but also to the people who fought for the plane, Flight 93, and crashed it into Shanksville, Pennsilvania. If it wasn't for those people, only God knows where we'd be now.


End file.
